Quidditch Pitch
by Secret Lily
Summary: Through the years, Dumbledore notices a reoccuring pattern taking place at his school. Oneshot.


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A/N: Sorry for those of you who read my other fics, but I'm really into one-shots right now. I don't know why. Most likely because it's a spur of the moment thing and doesn't involve any adding on. Suddenly, this plot just formed in my mind and I figured that I may as well write it down. We'll see if any of you like it. Please review.

Quidditch Pitch

Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry was made in the early days of the four founders Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. The stoned walls and complex rooms set the castle apart from the other schools. It may not have adorned the most elegant scheme, but the school was comforting and warm all the same.

Of all the things students remembered, the intriguing classes and ever-inspiring headmaster came to mind. Such is not always the case. Professor Albus Dumbledore knew this from firsthand experience. He often gazed out of his large, circular window from his office upon the evergreen grounds that sprawled across the land.

On one particular hot, May day he had opened his window and inhaled the cool air coming off of the slightly existent wind. His crescent moon glasses were perched across his nose, beads of sweat forming on his temple. Students were supposed to be in classes at the moment, leaving him with the smallest amount of spare time. To his surprise, he heard voices. It was an odd thing as he hadn't expected any visitors that day.

When he searched over the grounds, he saw that two people, two students to be exact, were standing on the Quidditch pitch. Their voices carried all the way up to his office on the second story.

"Come on Lily, you're really going to stay mad at me?" the voice of James Potter asked, his hand immediately reaching to his mess of untidy black hair. Dumbledore chuckled at the smooth demeanor of young James and the resistance Lily Evans maintained against his charm.

"Yes I am, Potter. You came into the Common Room drunk and started babbling away at the top of your voice. Those friends of yours were no help. You're lucky McGonagall didn't hear about it," Lily Evans preached sternly, her voice showing no sign of lightening up.

Dumbledore knew that it was wrong for the two students to be out on the pitch during class hours, but the fact that those two students were his best and brightest seemed to ease his inspiration to do so.

"I'm not going to cover for you ever again," Lily informed him. "I'm tired of you screwing up. If you'd have been caught, you could have been expelled."

James nodded, fully aware of that fact. As a Marauder, sneaking out to Hogsmeade and getting drunk was just what was done.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I know it was wrong. If only you knew.."

"Knew what? Knew that you're irresponsible and unable to follow the same rules the rest of us have to? Potter, you're lucky I even agreed to meet you out here. I'm missing Binns' class for this," Lily said, pointing her finger in his face.

Her thick auburn hair was piled onto her head and her emerald green eyes were flashing dangerously. Dumbledore noticed that somehow her mouth had lightened. In the midst of all her anger, Lily had still found it possible to show some remorse. He smiled as well.

"The reason I went out drinking was because I saw you," James said abruptly.

"Saw me? Saw me doing what?" Lily asked, shaking her head due to lack of comprehension.

"I saw you with Diggory," James told her quietly. "All day I couldn't get it out of my head. I tried drinking you away, but even then that didn't work. I can't get you off of my mind and it's killing me."

Lily paused for a moment, unsure of how to take this. She had been with Diggory, but she hadn't known that it would upset James Potter so much. Even worst was that she almost felt guilty about it.

"I don't know how to make it any simpler, Lily. I am a sixteen year old guy who's in love with a girl who can't stand me. I only want you to recognize me. Do you know what it's like to go day in and day out with absolutely no one who knows how you feel?" he asked her, his face flushed, but his eyes serious.

"No," she replied sadly. "I don't."

"Everything I do seems to repulse you. The way I talk, the way I walk, the people I surround myself with. I'm sure that even the way I play Quidditch makes you want to vomit," he said.

She smiled and walked towards him.

"No, I can handle the way you play Quidditch," she assured him. His eyes grew wide as their faces grew closer, their lips barely inches apart.

Dumbledore watched as Lily Evans gave away her heart to a boy that had been waiting for her all along.

.X.

It felt like only days, but Dumbledore heard those voices once more coming from that Quidditch pitch. It seemed nearly impossible for those same two people to be out on the grounds, but the headmaster had to be sure.

As he walked over to the window and put his glasses on, his hands began to tremble. His beard was much longer, a pale white color that was the only reminder that he was getting old.

The uncanny figure of a red headed girl and a messy haired boy could be seen in the distance.

"It can't be," he whispered to himself. "Potter and Evans?"

He was right; it couldn't be. The Potter's were dead now.

"Harry, what you did for me was the nicest thing anyone has ever done," Ginny Weasley said, sitting down on the ground and picking at a piece of grass.

"It was no problem," Harry divulged. "You're a great friend. Anyone would have done the same."

"You stood up for me," Ginny reminded him. "Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy ganged up on me, but you helped me out. No one was there, but you were. It was almost like fate. If you hadn't come and brought me my wand, who knows what could have happened?"

Harry smiled shyly, his emerald green eyes intently focused on his trainers. He looked up to see Ginny standing before him, slightly nervous but grinning.

"We don't have to do anything," she told him. "But I know you want to. I can feel it. You're the nicest guy I've met. You don't have to be shy."

So as she placed her lips upon his, Dumbledore knew that his school had done well once more.

.X.

The Sorting was starting, a new group of first years in line and ready. Professor McGonagall was nearly done, but some still remained.

"Maverick, Lyle."

As a small, blonde haired boy made his way to the stool and had the Sorting Hat placed upon his head, a girl screamed as someone pulled her hair.

Dumbledore directed his eyes over to a small red headed girl and a tall, messy haired boy.

"Do you have to do that?" the girl asked the boy, her voice frustrated.

"Yes," the boy answered. "I really do."

"Nelson, Shannon."

The red headed girl walked to the stool, her eyes burning angrily over at the boy, and she was sorted.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Applause roared from the Gryffindor house table.

"Potter, Adam."

The boy grinned as his name was called and he winked over at Shannon Nelson.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

He walked over smugly to the table, sitting right beside Shannon.

Once the feast was over, Dumbledore knew what he had to do. He took quick strides over to the two eleven year old's and stopped, smiling at both of them. He then looked at the new Potter boy.

"Interested in playing Quidditch during your time here?"

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A/N: So, tell me what you think. Please review.


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